


Bambi

by judesrivers



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Chicken Alfredo, Fluff, I always see Michael as a ten year old or younger, Jim is nice, John has a rich aunt, John is adorable, John is seventeen but he acts thirty, M/M, McLennon Grocery Shopping, Nicknames, Paul is Bambi’s twin, Paul is adorable, Paul is fifteen but he acts eleven, Paul loves it when John calls him baby, They are both madly in love, a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22779214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judesrivers/pseuds/judesrivers
Summary: John goes over to Paul to write some songs. Little inspiration has them in a stump, so they go out and do something else in the meanwhile.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	Bambi

The auburn haired lad absolutely loved it when his boyfriend would call randomly, voice raised to its highest pitch of excitement saying; “Mike and dad went on a trip! Can you come over?”

“I’m already one leg out the door son.”

That moment seemed to only seconds ago, when a hour already passed by.

John let the tip of his pencil draw small little swirlies at the corner of the lyric book he bought awhile ago. There hadn't yet been a suggested motive on what the song-in-the making was about, John just wanted to write. He felt the need to crack something down, spill out random scratches of words to piece up with other words so they could resemble a musical piece. Then with the both of his and Paul's guitar, they could rattle out a melody that would have them carry on with the rest of the song.

The harmonies come last.

John rose up from the floor, bones snapping from the lack of movement and discomforting position he was in. “What do we got Macca?” He grunted as he headed over towards the younger man perched up in his small bed.

Paul was laying on his back, legs hoisted gracefully against the wall. His arms were laid aside of him, a empty piece of paper in his right hand and a sharpened pencil in his left hand. “I don’t have anything thus far. To be honest with you, I don’t think we could force it out John.” Paul said, elegantly staring up at John while the older man hovered over him.

“Might as well should just leave then, should I?” Teased John, but although he was joking, he noticed how the peace on Paul’s face dropped spontaneously. 

Scrambling up onto his behind, and arching his legs away from the wall, Paul turned around to face John. “You don’t have to leave. Do you? You know- you always don’t have to come over just to write songs. I mean you can- but.. I don’t want you to go.”

“I was just joking Paul. You know I’d spend the whole day with you if I had the choice baby.” John chuckled, not even knowing how Paul internally reacted when the other man would call him baby. It was something rare, it was mostly ‘John’ and ‘Paul’ sometimes ‘Princess’ when John wanted to be bold. They hadn’t really cared for giving each other love-nicknames throughout the time of their relationship, it was something that never came up.

John closed the lyric book slowly, his eyes melting into the hypnotic pools of hazel gazing lovingly back at him. “So uh- what do you want to do now since nothing is coming up?” He asked, his face becoming flush from how long Paul was staring at him.

Paul had then forced himself blink, gently pushing away the stare of admiration he was giving John. Crumbling up the piece of paper, he spoke. “We could find something to eat, and then turn on the telly to see what they got on.”

John randomly sniffed before nodding his head, and helped Paul scoot himself out of the bed. “Yeah.”

Venturing out into Paul’s kitchen, John opened up a few cabinets to see what they could cook up. It was at that moment, he noticed how empty the cabinet had been. The only thing available was dry saltine crackers, and a can of chicken soup. “Um, baby? Where’s the good stuff?” John nonchalantly asked, closing the cabinet doors.

Shivers again, Paul blushed at how soft John would say it. The man hadn’t even realized how much butterflies he was setting off in Paul’s stomach, and how red his face was becoming. “What good stuff Johnny? You can’t find anything?” Paul asked from the living room, tuning the television to find channels that were good enough to watch with as little cable they had.

“Come here!”

Paul stood up, and shimmied into the kitchen to find John on a literal scavenger hunt for food inside of the home. “There’s literally no food here. I found several things that were expired already, when’s the last time you guys went shopping?”

Paul was quiet for a bit, embarrassment draining his senses. “Mum usually knows what to buy, but she’s not here. Plus my dad’s job hasn’t been paying him much lately, and we’ve got a lot of bills.” Paul softly confessed, feeling discomfort on the fact that he was basically telling John that they couldn’t exactly afford some good food. It was when he realized John was set-stone; he was the only person he could ever discuss this about and George too.

John placed his hand on Paul’s cheek, tilting his head to lean forward and place a gentle kiss on those inviting lips of Paul’s. “It’s alright baby. Don’t get embarrassed about it.”

Paul shuddered again at that damned nickname. God John could be such a fucking romantic at times, and whenever he is, it would be drastically overwhelming. “What are we going to eat then?” Paul asked, looking up at him almost innocently through his naturally thick eyelashes.

“My aunt from my dad’s side visited me the other day, gave me a couple of quid. We can go shopping for some food so you and little Mikey won’t have to scrape up on some food that expired two years ago.”

•••

Walking with the livelihood of Liverpool, there was frequent Scouse to Scouse, greeting to greeting, fist to face and police to criminals. Yet to Paul and John, in felt like a family gathering that goes on every day. Well mostly to John, anyway it was his short cut to go over to a supermarket and he’s been this way too many times to count on both fingers. Paul however was forbidden to go any other way but the way his father would tell him to go, just to watch out for strangers.

“Your aunt must be rich.” Paul randomly said, with his arms manually crossed over his chest. “Not Mimi but like your other aunt. The one who randomly gives you money, and not just regular a ten quid it’s like one hundred or two hundred.”

“Interesting observation.”

“Is she?” Paul shamelessly queried, his eyes sparkling with interest. John bit back the urge of kissing all over his face just from the innocent sight of the younger man.

“Well yeah, I guess. I don’t really know much about that side of the family, but they do love me a lot.”

“You’re their baby.” Paul said lowly as he smiled. Being caught off guard by the statement, John stopped walking abruptly with a dark red blush creeping up his cheeks.

Paul genuinely hadn’t known John was going to stop walking so suddenly. With the trait of clumsiness that trailer behind him, the younger man tripped over his own footing and fell onto the concrete sidewalk. “Jesus shit!” Paul cursed, half laughing and half grimacing as he caught himself with the tender base of his hand causing it to scrape a bit.

Amusingly watching his boyfriend scramble up on those long slim legs of his, caused John’s gears to start grinding. It was at that moment, it came to John what movie they should watch when they get back. “Alright?” John chuckled as Paul dusted fragments of little rocks off of him.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me up.”

“No problem.”

In the supermarket, Paul had effortlessly fitted himself into the cart. John watched in silent admiration as his boyfriend criss crossed his legs, and adorably demanded John to push the cart as fast as he could through the aisles. “Now Paul, you know I can’t do that or we’ll get kicked out and we’d have to go get food somewhere else. I don’t want to take you too far or else your father will have my head.”

“Why if we’re going shopping for him?”

“I’m going shopping for only you and Michael.” John said, rubbing his nose adorably.

“Daddy doesn’t like papa?” Paul boldly asked in literally the middle of a crowded supermarket, in the smack of a homophobic drenched 1957 England.

John’s face went white, and he only just shook his head while pushing the cart forward. “Yeah so anyway, what food do you think we should get?”

Paul chuckled under his breath, he should really stop at some point before they get arrested. “Uh, I don’t know really. You’re the one who wanted to go here.”

“Let’s get some pasta. That’s easy to cook. Plus it tastes good.”

“What kind of pasta?”

“Any kind.”

Paul stared at him blankly, and then he parted his lips to say something else. “I never really had pasta.”

John’s jaw dropped, and at an instant he was rushing the cart down the pasta aisle. “Never really had pasta? My are you missing out.” He said, handing different boxes of noodles and macaroni shells to Paul who was slumped uncomfortably in the cart. “I can’t cook as well as my aunt, but I’m bound to fix you something that’ll make you love pasta.”

Paul nodded submissively, and took an observing look at the nutrition facts on each boxes. Other times, he hadn’t really cared for facts — but him starting a recent diet made him all the more curious. Paul knew that he wasn’t fat or anything, but he still wanted to cut down on different foods just for the hell of it. “Johnny, this has two-hundred calories.”

“And?” John asked, pushing the cart around while he looked for some mayonnaise. “It’ll be a macaroni salad. Or we could make some Chicken Alfredo.”

“You say this as if I know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll see.” John concluded, putting some more materials for whatever he was thinking about cooking, into the cart. “Right so, what else do we need?”

“Should’ve made a list.” Paul softly giggled, as he childishly shook the box of macaroni shells. “Can we get something sweet? Like dessert?”

John was tempted to say something ridiculously subtle, but for the sake of their safety, he kept it clean and polished. “Cake?”

“Ice cream! Vanilla flavoured.”

“Alright.”

Eventually, Paul climbed out of the cart to help out a little girl who wanted to grab a bag of sweets that were a few inches above her. John dreamily sighed, passionately in love with the effortlessly enthralling younger boy. Crazy how at one point they were shooting glares at each other on who or who didn’t lead the band, how John bullied and ridiculed Paul until the younger boy had to physically prove him wrong. Then at the next point John had the younger pinned up against the wall with their lips attacking each other without any point in the context.

All in just a year.

Then it comes to John that it could all end at one point. He definitely didn’t want that.

•••

“So while you cook. What do I do?” Paul scratched absently at his incredibly dark brown hair.

“You’ll watch Bambi.”

Paul snorted, and arched his brow. “Why Bambi? What’s gotten into you Johnny?” He asked, leaning on the refrigerator as John scrambled around the kitchen collecting pots and pans to cook some chicken Alfredo.

“Because baby, when you fell earlier you looked like Bambi. That cute little deer with those long legs and shit. Yeah, that’s you.”

“Sod off Lennon.” Paul said, while pushing himself off of the refrigerator and heading over towards the living room. “I don’t have the coloured set, so it’ll just be in black and white.”

“Fine by me, just as long as I get to see yourtwin.” John had said while comedically wiggling his eyebrows when Paul turned halfway around to shoot him a flushed glare.

•••

It wasn’t exactly late at night, but it was around eight at night when John was finishing up cooking. After he cleaned the kitchen up, and fixed him and plate, the two cuddled up on the couch in front of the small telly while Bambi was playing.

“This is bloody _amazing_.” Paul said, his cheeks becoming more adorably stuffed as he ate some more of the food. “I love it Johnny.”

“Slow down before you choke.” John smiled, staring contently at his younger boyfriend while he ate. “You want some more of the juice I bought?” He asked, moving a leg from the couch in preparation to stand back up.

“No, I have enough baby.” Paul replied and picked up the cup that rested in front of the couch.

It was John’s turn to shudder.

He placed the plate and cup down onto the floor, sitting back while spreading his arms opened. “Come here, come on, bring it in.” John gently pestered, watching as his younger lover placed his food and cup down as well to crawl over towards him.

Paul wrapped his arms around John’s waist as John buried him in his own arms. Paul’s head rested contently on the curvature of John’s shoulder and neck, it was as if he was cradled like a newborn baby laying on his mother’s chest. John raised a hand to brush loose strands of hair from Paul’s forehead and to crane his neck down to plant his lips against his head. “I love you baby.” John murmured, squeezing Paul’s body tighter towards him.

Paul smiled, and inhaled John’s scent while his heart began to race from the affection. When will he ever get used to this? Probably never. “I love you more.”

They dozed off for about thirty minutes, and it was the gunshot of Bambi’s mother getting shot dead that startled Paul awake. He blinked groggily, hearing the helpless calls of Bambi seeking out his mother and it made him watch the devastating scene until the very end. All he knew is that whatever he just washed made a wave of emotions hit him harder than ever, the death of his mother. Paul wasn’t so sure what to do at the moment, not wanting to cry and wake up John but he also did not want to act like everything was okay.

_Goddamnit Bambi, you beautifully crafted tearjerker_.

Instead of sorting out his emotions, Paul rested his cheek against John’s chest and listened to the rhythmic heartbeat. The feeling of John subconsciously wrestling his hand into Paul’s hair, massaging the younger’s scalp made the brunnete tense up a bit. “I wonder how long we can stay like this until your brother and dad comes home.” John tiredly murmured, his voice groggy and slurred with sleepiness.

“I think they’ll be home any second.” Paul said, struggling to sit up since he didn’t want John’s arms to be unraveled from his body.

John sat up, and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, probably.”

The two collected their plates and cups, washing them out at the sink before putting them away. Afterwards Paul reluctantly, and unwillingly guided John towards the backdoor whereas John’s bike was rested at. He really didn’t want his boyfriend to leave, wanting to cuddle up with him for the rest of the night without any disturbances. Then he also knew that John was genuinely sleepy, after shopping with him for much needed food and spending an hour trying to cough out a lyric for a song they needed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow after school.” Paul said as he played with the knob of his backdoor.

John smiled tiredly at Paul. “You know I don’t go to school anymore. I’ll pick you and Georgie up, then we can head over to the record shop.”

Paul nodded excitedly, “That sounds like a plan.”

John grabbed Paul’s wrist, pulling the younger boy towards him to press their lips together in a kiss. Paul melted into it quickly, his arms winging around John’s neck to provide a much more passionate display of affection for the older boy. Soon enough, they had to break away since the lights of Jim’s car flashed and reflected off of the driveway.

John pressed one last kiss to Paul’s lips. “Okay, bye. I love you.” He said quickly, while gently withdrawing his hand from Paul’s wrist to clamber onto his bike.

“Bye Johnny.” Paul replied softly, sadly waving his hand as John began to ride off all the way back towards Mimi’s home.

“Jamesy! Jamesy! Jamesy!” Michael’s voice called out, which caused Paul to swiftly step back inside and close the door. “Something smells good.”

Paul walked into the kitchen, watching as his father took the cap off of a pot of chicken Alfredo. Paul watched in amusement as his eyebrows raised up in astonishment. “Paul did you make this?”

“No uh- John did. He came over so we could work on some songs and we got hungry, he offered to buy us food.”

“How nice of him.” Jim smiled, before licking his lips and rubbing his hands together. “Hey Mikey, you want some of this? It’s pasta, your mother used to cook it all of the time back when we were young.”

Michael scurried into the kitchen, jacket and shoes still on from the outing. “Ooh yeah!”

Paul headed over towards the stairs. “I’m going to bed guys, I’m tired.”

“Night son.”

“Goodnight Jamesy.”

•••


End file.
